


and possibly i like the thrill

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Context? What context?, Erotic Poetry, Kinda, M/M, PWP, Refractory Period, Sex Aftermath, and i'm talking legit published poetry, good god it's not mine, in fic poetry, uhhh so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All those months, falling into the embarrassment and cliches of lusting after one's roommate and it finally all slammed together. And now the only question Felix has left on his mind is <i>why.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	and possibly i like the thrill

**Author's Note:**

> **Credit:** The poem used in this piece is _i like my body_ by e.e cummings. It's got a few other titles but I think that's the one most people agree on? There's a link to the uncut work in the text when the first quote is dropped and again once more later. I did two small cuts to the piece to get it to fit better and added in capitalization. So any e.e cummings purists out there, beware. (Though I can give you a legit reason why if you want one.) 
> 
> Also this ficlet just sorta drops you in randomly. Caveat emptor.

The sheets are damp under Felix's back when he runs his hand through the hair plastered down around his face. He stares at the cracked white ceiling, half-mortified and half-elated as the plain canvas in front of him becomes a projection screen for his memory. The ways he didn't know a body could bend. The amount of heat and pain and straining euphoria that combine and wring him out. He's lucky it's dark because, although the rest of him is feverish, his face starts to  _burn._

 _"What-"_ He takes a deep breath, panting away the warmth under his belly and the strain in his muscles. "What was  _that?"_

From beside him, Felix hears a Zippo snap into flame and the a muted, sleepy snicker beside him. In his periphery, Felix can see the steady red glow of the cigarette nestled in that same hand that had, only a few moments ago, made him see stars.

"Didn't your parents have that talk with you?"

And Peter's got sharp teeth and smoke expelling from his throat with the laugh. Felix pretends he isn't pleased when he heard the lag in Peter's voice, the exhaustion apparent when he spoke.

Felix chortles dryly. He doesn't know what kind of upbringing Peter had, but having only been given the obligatory birds-and-bees conversation, he can't possibly imagine anyone trying to explain what it's really like. Especially not the way Peter does it. Touching him like he's the clay he'll mold for class, manipulating his limbs like the paint on a canvas, throwing endorphins, adrenaline, pheromones around like paint splattered on Felix's desk from Peter's midterm. 

"Perhaps the better question is  _why."_ Felix removes his hand from his face and turns to see the boy.

Peter's diaphragm billows but he's grinning as the cigarette breaks through his teeth, brow darted up in something that  _feels_ like a  _dare._ All those months, falling into the embarrassment and cliches of lusting after one's roommate and it finally all slammed together.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Felix narrows his eyes.

"Apparently not," Peter mumbles, smirk on his face. He sucks up more smoke and works his way through the breath before sighing it out, the toxic air flowing into Felix's face, messing with his calculated deep breaths. "Shall I enlighten you, then?"

On the one hand, Felix knows he's still trying to slump his way out of his post-orgasmic haze. He knows it's too soon to even get it up again, but with the other he reaches for Peter's cigarette and all he can think is  _Oh God yes._

The smoke is thick and smooth down Felix's throat and he tosses the stick on the ceramic lamp on his bedside table. Before he can exhale, he's gasping to take in another breath, drowning in the air, as Peter's teeth catch the silver studs on his nipples. Peter's tongue lashes out, teasing the dusty-pink skin, suckling them for a moment with the tang of metal against his tastebuds. And then, hands running circles on his chest, Felix cants up, too stunned to arc or buck. He hisses when Peter bites down, thumb teasing, pressing on his airways, on the purpling bruise right on the most vital airway.

And then Peter lets go. His breath is still hot, glowing embers against his trembling skin. "How," His lips drag up Felix's chest, and come to rest on the tender pulse-point under his jaw. "Can I explain it to you?"

His fringe tickles Felix's collarbone as he squirms and sighs out through a grin while Peter's lips stretch and hover above his skin. Under Peter's mouth, the entire fucking world looks different. Felix can feel every nerve spark in his body, every tick and the way his cock yearns and begs to no avail to twitch through its exhaustion.

["](http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2009/10/14) _[It is quite so new a thing,"](http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2009/10/14) _ And Peter's hands run down his body, slowly dipping into the concaves of bone, nicking on his piercings as they make their way down to press into his gut. For a few horrible lingering moments, there's silence. Or the closest thing to silence as the boys in the room next door scream at their XBox. Felix sweats and waits. Peter's voice goes low, and his hands continue to roam in wide, open circles over his stomach, his ribs, every inch of his body, keeping it from cooling. " _Muscles better and nerves more."_

Felix groans as Peter sticks his leg between Felix's knobby knee, benign for a beat, as he snickers and as Felix keens. " _I like your body, I like what it does. I like its hows. I like to feel the spine of your body_ _and its bones,and the trembling-firm-smooth ness and which I will-"_

Peter takes a moment to wait, watches the lag in Felix's breath and swings up and over, perched on his hands and knees. One leg nudged between Felix's, both hands clutching his wrists, a dangerous lift in his brow. " _A_ _gain and again and again -"_ He pauses, manic grin insisting that Felix read between the lines. _"Kiss."_

Felix trembles under Peter's body, he sighs out a dazed chirr and props his outside leg up on the bed, something to gain leverage. The gasp comes next, Peter's hips swing low, grind down on his thigh, heat radiating out, frustrated and excitable, eager to spring up again but unwilling.  " _I like kissing this and that of you, I like, slowly stroking the shocking fuzz of your electric furr_ _," -_ the noise comes out from Felix's throat without permission, and Peter murmurs the next line into his teeth.  _"_ _And what-is-it comes over parting flesh_.. _."_

"Peter-" Felix starts to interrupt, to whine and beg, hushed by a pair of dangerous lips slam against his with vehemence that could split them open.

"Uh-uh. I'm not finished yet." Peter groans low. Felix attempts a different tactic, jolting his hips up to grind against Peter's. But the boy only laughs and resumes his recital _._

" _And possibly I like the thrill,_ _"_ Sucking a final, exhausting kiss from Felix's lips, he finishes:  " _Of under me you so quite new.'"_

Felix stops, pants, thinking of nothing but the salty taste of Peter's skin, the way it covers him and he's splattered and soaked down but never missing a beat. He looks perfect like this. Completely in his mind, well enough to fucking recite poetry to him. Unbelievable. And, Felix thinks with a small grin, so utterly Peter.

And, as though it were nothing, Peter shrugs.  _"_ I've never fancied that last bit. But that's what happens when[ you read other people's work ](http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2009/10/14)\- they don't quite reach your  _standards._ "

Dizzy, less than willing for conversation Felix shakes his arms, manages to snap free from Peter's grasp in order to throw his arms around Peter's neck and bring him down. His tongue darts over Peter's lips and retreats to let his teeth do the rest of the work. "How do you memorize all that?" He mumbles between messy kisses, not really caring for an answer.

Peter's voice is caught between a snicker and a moan and his arms come speedily around Felix - up and under - till they're caged in a tangle of limbs. "Call me a prodigy."

With an open grin, Felix peppers a line of kisses down Peter's jaw. "You should try writing your own stuff." He snickers, lapping at a hickey he'd proudly left on Peter's neck. "Read that to me."

Peter slants his brow, recaptures Felix's mouth. He sucks on his tongue for a beat and then pulls back. Felix feels the hand on his cock, feather-light and running up the shaft. There's a stirring in his stomach and -  _finally_ \- the heat bubbles under his abdomen.

Satisfied, Peter hoods his eyes, craning in close and, with their lips meeting at the punctuation, murmurs, "You couldn't handle it."

**Author's Note:**

> There's a part of me that wishes I'd saved this for some slowburn Hot Roommate AU/English & Art Major AU. But I'm just trying to power through my lists to clear up all my WIPs so this got a bit of the shaft, though I like this excerpt enough to keep it. 
> 
> This was also an exercise in style. It was really fun to write but I'm torn on effectiveness. Thoughts on that would be appreciated. Or on the story in general.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bad Intentions, Good Taste](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737596) by [Pandasushiroll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandasushiroll/pseuds/Pandasushiroll)




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